


Berliners for Berliners

by katalicz



Series: Prompt fills [5]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, bandit doesnt like his birthday since yknow cedrick and all, birthday fic, but he gets over it through the slow power of friendship, implied smut but im bad at writing it so no smut (yet)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 03:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katalicz/pseuds/katalicz
Summary: When Bandit finally tells Blitz when his birthday is, it's two years after they start dating and four days before the day itself.Blitz is determined to make sure he doesn't regret it.





	Berliners for Berliners

**Author's Note:**

> s/o to the anon who reminded me it was bandits birthday this week! i had planned to do something short and sweet but got carried away (again)  
> if its a bit rushed and messy im sorry, ill come back and fix it when im a bit more awake.  
> maybe part 2? who knows.

Bandit’s birthday is the only one absent from the ‘ _special events/holidays calendar’_ that Ash insisted on making when Rainbow first formed.

It’s not an accident – Blitz remembers the first few times he’d asked about Bandit’s birthday and they had _not_ gone well; he earned himself a week-long cold shoulder and several rude remarks until he’d let the matter drop, and he knows that Ash and Twitch’s attempts went much the same way until IQ had stepped in to tell them to leave it alone.

It hadn’t been hard for Blitz to guess why Bandit is so avoidant of the matter – in their three years of friendship he’s seen the nightmares, has earned Bandit’s trust to the point where he knows everything about Hanover, about Cedrick and all that had followed – he probably knows more than Bandit does, with the way he’s blocked the worst of it from his mind, refusing to acknowledge the memories and driving Doc up the wall with his refusing to accept help.

A few months into their tentative dating he’d asked again and had received the explanation he both had and hadn’t wanted to hear – it always makes him happy to know Bandit trusts him enough to confide in him, but it aches like a punch to the throat to hear his suspicions confirmed, to know how much Bandit is still affected by his past. Jäger and IQ had been told a few weeks later, to Blitz’s surprise – they still don’t know all of Bandit’s past, but they knew enough to be able to understand Bandit’s nervous, white faced speech (and Blitz had filled the gaps in later, after forcing Bandit into a hot shower and quietly reminding him that none of them think any _less_ of him), and Blitz knows how much it means to the pair to know that Bandit finally trusts them enough, too.

The three had made a pact to leave the matter be and to celebrate Bandit’s birthday with Blitz’s own – and that had gone down _very_ well, much to Blitz’s joy – and whilst it still hurts to know they’ll never be able to celebrate properly, it’s much better than the alternative. Bandit gets a party and Blitz gets to give him gifts (and Jäger and IQ get to try to make _more_ cake, which ends in an even bigger disaster than usual), and the base are more than happy to accept the decision – a party’s a party, after all, and Blitz knows they’d been uncomfortable that Bandit had been the only one to miss out.

 

…

 

It goes like that for two years, until one morning, just before Bandit gets on the helicopter for a mission, he presses a startlingly soft kiss to Blitz’s temple and murmurs, “It’s my birthday on the thirteenth.”

Blitz stares at him in surprise, barely able to process the words before Bandit has clambered into the helicopter and vanished. Part of him had hoped that Bandit would tell him one day, especially considering how much he’s _changed_ over the past year; the nightmares come less and less frequently, and he’s willing ( _able_ ) to talk about Hanover, now, about Cedrick, without the memories swallowing him whole – but Blitz hadn’t expected it to happen today, and from the carefully hidden panic in Bandit’s eyes, _he_ hadn’t expected it either.

His heart flip-flops in his chest as the helicopter starts up, and his mind kicks into overdrive as Twitch pulls him inside away from the rotors – he needs to find Bandit a present and he needs to make a plan, and considering the thirteenth is in _four days_ , he needs to do it _fast_.

He goes to find Doc as soon as he can – for once, Doc hasn’t gone with the task force; the mission’s only a protection detail, after all, and there will be plenty of medics around should they be needed, and Blitz is unendingly grateful for it now. He needs to get them both a few days booked off and Doc will do it without question – he has access to all their files, he’ll know that Bandit’s birthday is coming up.

Doc looks up the second he appears in the doorway, and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Bandit has told you, yes?” he asks, and Blitz is left standing in shock for the second time as Doc reaches back to drag a chair from the corner of the small office and put it in front of the desk, motioning for Blitz to close the door.

“You _knew_ ,” Blitz says, maybe a bit too accusatorily, but Doc doesn’t seem to mind.

“Of course I knew, I know everything,” he replies matter-of-factly, taking off his reading glasses and watching as Blitz flops into the chair. “He came to see me a few days ago to get my opinion on telling you – I told him it was about time he did, and then he put mud in my coffee, so I didn’t really know _what_ he would do.”

Blitz snorts, because of _course_ Bandit did. Doc doesn’t look too offended, though, so he doesn’t apologise on Bandit’s behalf, and instead hears himself say, “I don’t know what to _do_.”

Doc shrugs. “I’ve already booked you both a few days off – they’ll be back late on the twelfth, hopefully – but he said as long as you don’t plan anything too fancy, he doesn’t care.”

Blitz smiles gratefully, and vows to buy Doc a bottle of brandy next time he’s out. “Thanks, that’s what I was going to ask you for – and do you think Montagne would be willing to make a cake?”

Doc’s smile widens fondly. “I’m sure he would _love_ to. You know how he is with baking.”

“Is he on base?”

“Not at the moment, he’s out shopping with Rook. If you call him to check that he can do whatever you need him to do, he can probably get you ingredients now,” Doc says, phone already in hand, and Blitz shakes his head quickly. He knows Bandit _loves_ chocolate cake, but there’s almost always a chocolate cake available on base, and he’d like it to be something _special_.

“No, it’s fine, I need to go and get him a present anyway,” he replies, then frowns as a thought strikes him. “Do you think he would like a dog? Glaz’s _loves_ him, and it’s so nice to watch them, and-“ he breaks off as Doc looks at him, bemused.

“You know that Glaz’s dog is an emotional support dog, yes? That is why they get on so well,” Doc says.

Blitz blinks. He _hadn’t_ known that, actually – nobody had told him, but he supposes it makes sense. “No, I didn’t know,” he says, chewing on his lip. “A cat then, maybe, we both like cats, and I know Jäger and IQ like them too…”

He gets another bemused look. “Or maybe get a normal gift?” Doc interrupts. “We’ve already got too many animals on base, it’s a miracle Glaz was even allowed to bring Sazha.”

“Mute has four rabbits,” Blitz argues, because it would be _nice_ to have a cat, and Bandit would _love_ it. “I don’t see how _one cat_ makes that much of a difference.”

“Mute has four rabbits because his squad told Six they would all leave if he couldn’t keep them,” Doc rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it would work twice, or suddenly we’d all have pets and the base would turn into a zoo.”

Blitz sighs, and sadly lets the idea go. “I suppose so,” he says, ignoring how Doc rolls his eyes again. “I’ll come up with something else, then.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Doc tells him, slipping his glasses on and turning back to his paperwork. “I think you could give him a hammer and he would be happy, if it were from you.”

Blitz smiles at the reassurance – Doc is probably right, after all; Bandit probably wouldn’t be annoyed if he got him something small, but Blitz wants to do _more_ than something small – he needs it to be _perfect_.

“Thank you, Doc,” he says, taking the hint that his time to talk is over, and stands up before neatly putting the chair back in its corner. “Remember to eat, okay?”

Doc huffs and shakes his head. “You’re as bad as Montagne. I will, don’t worry.”

Blitz snorts – Doc almost certainly won’t, but Montagne will bully him into it sooner or later. “As long as you do,” he replies. “ _Adieu_.”

Doc mumbles something resembling a farewell as Blitz quietly slips out, thoughts clearer than they were but still racing to think of something good enough for Bandit. Neither of them have ever been much for gift giving – he took Bandit home with him to see the Christmas markets in Bremen in December and gave him a ridiculous amount of chocolate on ‘their’ birthday, and Bandit usually gives him silly (but incredibly thoughtful) prank gifts. He wants this to be different, though – he wants to show Bandit how much it means to him to be trusted – and really, it’s the first chance he’s had to surprise Bandit in a long time.

So he waits for Montagne to get back and asks him if he’d make _Berliner_ _Pfannkuchen_ _,_ because he _knows_ Bandit misses them _,_ filled with chocolate and caramel (and one filled with mustard because _really_ , it’s _tradition_ ), which Montagne eagerly agrees to. He doesn’t ask why Blitz wants them and politely refuses Blitz’s offering to help – which is probably a good thing, because Blitz has never been good at baking – but agrees to let Blitz buy him his favourite blend of coffee in return.

When Montagne has gone, he paces a few laps around the kitchen, lost in thought, and it’s not until Thatcher appears to tell him to ‘ _stop wearing a hole in the floor or you’ll be fixing it yourself’_ that he decides to go for a run. He can’t confer with Jäger or IQ, after all – he doesn’t know if Bandit has told them, and it wouldn’t be fair to go and tell them if he doesn’t want them to know – so he figures that the next best thing to do to clear his mind is exercise.

(And much to his relief, it _does_.)

 

  ….

 

Blitz is asleep when the task-force return; they’d been running a few hours late, and both Bandit and Jäger had texted telling him not to wait up. Normally that wouldn’t have stopped him, but he’s been busy keeping Montagne company all afternoon whilst he’d been baking and had had to drive to the RAF base to collect Bandit’s gift in the evening, so he decides to take their advice, for once.

So he’s pleasantly surprised when he's woken by the sound of the door closing at 3AM, and he manages to whisper out a sleepy _hello_ before moving back to make room for Bandit in the bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” Bandit murmurs, gently running a hand through Blitz’s hair before vanishing to the bathroom. The light illuminates him for a brief second before the door closes, and Blitz doesn’t have to be fully awake to see how tired he is; the slouch of his shoulders and the slightly uneven pace are as familiar as ever. He’ll want a lie-in in the morning, which Blitz is more than happy to give him – it’ll give him chance to bring everything upstairs without Bandit suspecting anything.

He manages to stay awake until Bandit returns, smelling like soap and mint and curling himself into Blitz’s side without prompting, an arm slung over his waist and feet cold where they press against his calves.

“Happy birthday, Dom,” Blitz mumbles, on the edge of consciousness. “Love you.”

He barely hears Bandit’s quiet reply before he’s asleep.

…………..

Blitz wakes up at 8 and spends half an hour lying still, listening to Bandit’s quiet breathing and thinking through his plans for the day – which, admittedly, mostly include staying in bed, but it’s still calming to run it through his mind.

He eases himself out of bed and slips silently from their room before heading down to Doc’s office – the Berliners are sat in a neat pile on a plate, and Blitz vows to get Montagne a bottle of wine as well as his coffee, because they look _incredible_. The small parcel he’d picked up yesterday is sat in Doc’s chair, safely out of sight of any nosey operators – the Berliners are safe enough under the strict rule that nobody steals food from Doc’s office unless they want to face Montagne’s wrath, but a wrapped present would _definitely_ cause some questions that Blitz really doesn’t have the energy to answer.

He takes the plate in one hand and the parcel in the other and quietly makes his way back upstairs to their room.

Bandit is fortunately still asleep, and Blitz does his best to keep him that way as he creeps by to deposit his gifts on his desk. The bags below Bandit’s eyes are deeper than usual, as though he hasn’t slept since going away – it wouldn’t be the first time and it won’t be the last, and Blitz makes a mental note to speak to him about sleeping tablets later.

Blitz slips back out of the room to go and say hello to Jäger, who doesn’t look tired at all upon waking, and confirms that Bandit has been awake for the majority of the mission. Blitz tells him that he and Bandit will be unavailable for the day (and receives a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle for his trouble) but doesn’t explain why – he still doesn’t know if Jäger knows, and it’s still not his secret to tell.

He leaves again a few minutes later, after Jäger has told him about the mission (which was apparently long and boring and didn’t actually need most of them) and Blitz has told him about the spare Berliners he knows Montagne left on the kitchen table.

Blitz slowly climbs back in bed upon returning, smiling softly as Bandit automatically rolls over and moves close, forehead pressed into Blitz’s shoulder and huffing quietly as Blitz wraps an arm around his waist. It’s good just to lay in his presence without the worry of being interrupted, for once - to have the time to relax and think and try not to worry about whether Bandit will like his presents or not.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that – he might have drifted back off to sleep, he really doesn’t know – but eventually Bandit stirs, muscles tightening briefly until he remembers where he is.

“Morning,” Blitz says quietly, pulling back slightly to give Bandit room to get free.

He doesn’t take it, and instead shifts closer again. “Morning,” he replies, voice rough with sleep and breath hot against Blitz’s chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you, earlier.”

Blitz rubs his thumb in small circles around the curve of Bandit’s hip and smiles. “It’s fine, you know I sleep lightly. It was good to know you got back safely.”

“Mission was shit, there was no trouble at all,” Bandit grumbles tiredly. “We didn’t need to be there, they only wanted two people. We did _nothing_ the entire time.”

“Plenty of time for you to sleep, then,” Blitz teases gently, running a finger under one of Bandit’s eyes and smiling at the half-hearted glare it earns him.

Bandit snorts. “Of course not. The beds were awful and Jäger was snoring and I didn’t have _you_ with me. It was _awful,_ ” he says, finally moving back to peer up at Blitz. The lines around his eyes are more pronounced than usual and he’s got a crease mark across one cheek, but his eyes are alert and his lips look soft and Blitz _really_ can’t do much other than kiss them.

“I missed you too,” he replies happily after he’s pulled away, smiling at the way Bandit rolls his eyes fondly and squeezes his side. “And I got you something, too, by the way. Since, y’know, birthday and all.”

Bandit blinks at him, and the blush that spreads across his face makes Blitz grin all the more. “You didn’t _have_ to,” he says, “I just wanted you to know about it.”

“I _wanted_ to get you something,” Blitz replies, pressing his nose briefly to Bandit’s own. “You’ll like them, I _promise_.”

Or at least he _hopes_ Bandit will like them. The bundle of nerves that’s been sat in his stomach since the parcel arrived has grown since Bandit’s got home – it means so much to know Bandit trusts him, and he’s got an awful irrational feeling that if Bandit doesn’t like them then he’s letting him down.

He pushes the nerves aside – there’s nothing he can do now, after all, and instead untangles himself from Bandit and the bedding before heading over to grab the plate of pastries.

Bandit sits himself up, peering curiously at the plate, and Blitz waits for him to arrange the pillows before pushing the Berliners into his hands and sitting down nervously.

Bandit’s eyes widen as he takes in the neat pile of Berliners. “Are these _Pfannkuchen?_ ” he asks incredulously, gently picking one up and turning it over before glancing over at Blitz. “I haven’t had proper ones in _years_.”

“Yeah, they are,” Blitz says, unable to keep the blush from his face as Bandit stares at him. “Montagne made them. I found him an authentic recipe, because you _know_ I can’t bake for shit – but I thought you might like them. Berliners for my Berliner.”

That earns him a playful smack to the arm, but Bandit is grinning more than he has in ages and his cheeks are flushed an endearing pink, and Blitz wants nothing more than to kiss him silly.

“You _know_ they’re called Pfannkuchen, don’t be an ass,” Bandit smiles, taking a bite of one of his halves. “How many have mustard in them?”

Blitz steals the other half and tries to look shocked. “I’m appalled you would accuse me of doing _anything_ like that,” he says, failing to hide his grin, and Bandit rolls his eyes in false exasperation.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he says once he’s swallowed. “So only one then, yes?”

“Only one,” Blitz confirms cheerfully. “The rest are chocolate or caramel – I thought you’d prefer that to jam.”

Bandit looks back at him, eyes blown wide and so full of affection that Blitz almost chokes on his mouthful of dough. “I do. Thank you, Elias,” he says, and Blitz _does_ choke at that, because hearing Bandit say his name so casually _still_ sets something in his stomach alight, even after two years.

“It was no problem, Montagne did most of the work – I owe him one, really, he didn’t even ask why I wanted them-“ he says, mind not quite managing to process his words because Bandit is _still_ looking at him like that and it’s _really_ not fair.

Bandit quirks an eyebrow and picks up another Berliner. “Still, it was your idea,” he says with a shrug (and there’s a sly look in his eye that implies he knows _exactly_ what he’s doing to Blitz’s insides). “So thanks. It means a lot.”

Blitz forces himself to stand up and get the parcel, because if he doesn’t distract himself now he’ll forget about it _completely_ later.

He steals the plate of pastries from Bandit’s lap (and earns an affronted _Oi!_ for his trouble) and puts the parcel there instead, taking his time in putting the plate back because the nerves have returned tenfold, and he’s not sure if he wants to see Bandit’s reaction or not.

He does turn when Bandit inhales, worried that he’s cut himself on the ridiculously sharp knife that had taken him so _long_ to order, but Bandit is simply holding it up and staring at it as though he’s never seen one before.

As Blitz slides back onto the bed next to him, caught somewhere between fear and delight, he realises Bandit’s hand is _trembling_.

 _“Blitz,”_ he breathes, and Blitz’s heart swoops in his chest anxiously.

“It’s custom made,” he manages to say, not meeting Bandit’s eyes – he doesn’t want to look in case there’s _disappointment_ there. “4.9 inch blade, high concentration carbon and vanadium steel alloy – it’ll be a bitch to sharpen, but it’ll last you forever, and I _know_ you like to sit around sharpening them in public places to scare us, so at least you’ll be able to do it without wearing the blade out. The handle’s carbon fibre and has a custom grip – I took pictures of your old knife grip, I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to make sure it would fit you and you liked it and-“

 _“Elias,”_ Bandit interrupts, and that startles him enough to look up to see that Bandit’s eyes are slightly wet and he’s grinning so wide it must hurt, and before Blitz can say another word there are hands coming to cup the back of his head and drag him into a fierce kiss.

Their teeth clash uncomfortably and Bandit’s nose digs into his face, but it’s _perfect_ and Blitz can’t stop the whine that escapes his throat as he finally reacts and throws his arms around Bandit’s back, pulling him as close as he can and kissing back just as hard.

It could be minutes or it could be hours before they separate but Blitz _really_ doesn’t care – all he can focus on is the hot mouth on his, the sharpness of Bandit’s teeth as he bites at his lower lip, the fingernails digging into his neck just a bit too much and sending heat shooting through his groin – he’s drowning and he doesn’t care, doesn’t want to stop, could happily do this all _month_ \- but eventually Bandit pulls back with a sigh, tears in his eyes and hands still gripping at Blitz’s neck, and Blitz has to remind himself to breath (which isn’t easy at _all_ , considering Bandit is half sprawled on his lap and looking at him with such _joy_ that it’s a miracle Blitz’s heart hasn’t given out.)

“You like it, then?” he somehow manages to say, and Bandit _laughs_ , dropping his forehead to rest on Blitz’s shoulder.

“It’s _perfect_ ,” he breathes, and Blitz buries his face in Bandit’s hair in what he thinks is probably relief. “ _Thank you.”_

“You _deserve_ it,” Blitz replies, and the hands squeeze a bit tighter in silent acknowledgement before moving away, and Bandit looks up again.

“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to take today off, could I?” he says, eyes flashing with longing and Blitz decides, for what is probably the thousandth time since they’d become friends, that he would gladly _die_ for him.

Blitz makes sure the knife is safely in its sheath before grabbing Bandit by the hips and dragging him fully into his lap. “We’ve both got three days off,” he breathes, and a shark-like grin slowly spreads across Bandit’s face. “Doc’s orders. I’ve already told Jäger not to come over for a while.”

Fingernails slowly drag up his spine and his breath catches in his throat as Bandit leans forwards to murmur, “I suppose it would be a shame to _waste_ that, then.”

 

(And hours later, after slowly venturing down to the kitchen to find food, carefully avoiding Jäger’s knowing looks and Smoke’s ear-piercing wolf-whistles, Blitz decides that Bandit’s first official birthday celebration has been an _outstanding_ success.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so on the subject of Berliners/Pfannkuchen - if you come from Berlin or other western germany states, you'd call them Pfannkuchen, and from what ive read, everyone else in germany calls them Berliners. so iq and bandit call them pfannkuchen, and blitz and jager call them Berliners. as far as i know theyre basically whatever-filled donuts, like youd get at krispy kreme.  
> im working on a fair bit of bliban atm (which is honestly SO GOOD im so happy people are requesting it) so expect more in the future!  
> hmu at katalicz.tumblr.com  
> requests are always open! <3


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